


How Good Fortune Surprises Us

by Neurotoxia



Series: The Reichenbach Recipes [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bread, Food, Gen, Mixed Media, No spoilers for S3, Recipes, Sandwiches, Scotland Yard, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 15:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/pseuds/Neurotoxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg Lestrade should know to never trust a good day at work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Sherlock Mini-Bang 2013. I teamed up with [rodleen](http://rodleen.tumblr.com/) to create a combined baking & writing experience. You can find the recipe in Chapter 2 :)

[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=4l0w7t)

There are certain days Greg will never forget as long as he’ll live. He will truly remember them; not in a vague sense, but with mundane details seared into his memory, like what he had to eat and drink. The days that change his life in a profound way.

The first time he sees a dead body at the age of seven (his grandmother, died peacefully in her armchair after cooking Greg’s favourite rice pudding), his first day as a police officer (full of strong, over-sweetened tea and dry toast because he can’t stomach anything else), his wedding (a fine summer day that’s neither too hot nor too cold, a bit too much champagne and delicious marzipan and buttercream cake), the birth of his daughter (no food for 23 hours and too much caffeine because the contractions start at two in the morning and Greg doesn’t dare leave his wife’s side longer than it takes him to get Red Bull at the vending machine) and the day Sherlock Holmes throws himself off a building (It’s been a mad house at work. The situation with Sherlock worries him sick, he’s run on junk food, coffee and doughnuts for what feels like forever -- and doesn’t sleep for two days after he hears what happened. He hasn’t even noticed how much he cared about the git before he is gone).

If Greg thought that the day Sherlock died is memorable, the day he comes back steamrollers him.

In hindsight, the day was too perfect from the start. Things went too smooth. Hindsight is 20/20 though, isn’t it?

Greg calls his ex-wife before work to speak about their daughter’s visit next weekend and the two of them have a civilised, almost pleasant conversation. No sniping or underhand insults. They even attempt to have a bit of small talk. Thus, Lestrade is in a good mood when he goes on his way to work, traffic unusually light: he spends only ten minutes in a traffic jam and no one tried to steal his parking spot during the night.

Somebody just brewed a fresh pot of coffee at the station -- the kitchen smells rich and delicious of roasted coffee beans. He doesn’t need to start a pot himself for once or drink the bitter, reheated-for-hours leftovers from the night shift. No one has stolen his mug or put an empty milk carton back in the fridge instead of getting a new one. He even gets to chat to the chief inspector’s secretary: she’s clever and has a sharp tongue that makes Greg laugh. 

He attends a meeting in which he manages to fill his buzzword bingo card before two other detective inspectors, although he foregoes yelling ‘Bingo!’ and gets on top of his paperwork before lunch. The pizzeria three streets away offers a special of Lestrade’s favourites and even when he returns, no one has been murdered in a grim fashion. 

He pours over the file of an unsolved murder -- husband of the victim is their prime suspect, but the man must have caught wind and disappeared. The problem is they don’t have many leads as to his current location and the search is painstaking. It’s one of those things Lestrade would thrust under Sherlock’s nose to ask him about clues -- if he could. Sherlock is gone, he reminds himself. Despite all the news reports, Lestrade doesn’t believe Sherlock is a fake. 

_Was_. 

He doesn’t shout it from the rooftops though. Greg hasn’t uttered the name around the Yard for the last two years. His colleagues still think he’s a fool for trusting the word of Sherlock Holmes. Many think he should have been fired. Lestrade has stopped wondering why he hadn’t lost his job.

The failure to uncover any more leads is his biggest disappointment that day. After that, the day even gears up another notch. At four, his daughter calls to tell him that she is top of the class in the latest maths test. He praises her and promises ice cream for next weekend.

When two murders (one murder-suicide) happen, they are referred to other teams. Greg is secretly relieved he doesn’t have to deal with the suicide. They make him uneasy these days.

He does some more paperwork and actually gets to go home at six. Greg decides to leave his car at the Yard because he toys with the idea of going to a pub. A few days back, one of his old mates from football who runs a local waterhole has invited him to stop by. A pint of cider and catching up sounds good to him, and on his way, he would pass that little sandwich shop he likes. His last _good_ sandwich was several weeks ago.

Greg takes the Tube for a few stops to Borough and walks along busy streets in Southwark. He pops into the sandwich shop which is located on a quieter, narrower street. This one he discovered during a case in the neighbourhood when he and his team spent hours on a crime scene without having had breakfast or lunch. This cafe was the first thing he happened upon and Greg is still glad about it. Their sandwiches are divine. Today’s pick is a Caesar’s Chicken Sandwich made with toasted spelt bread, parmesan, crème fraîche dressing and a few slices of grilled bacon. Greg gets two for good measure and carries them outside in a horribly bright green paperbag.

Weaving through a couple of quiet back alleys, he reaches an underpass famous for its use as a veritable marketplace for drugs. Luckily, it seems to be deserted for the moment. He doesn’t fancy arresting someone or call in a team from the drugs squad. 

“Two sandwiches, Lestrade? After that generous lunch -- pizza, was it? At your age, you might want to watch your intake if you don’t want to go soft around the middle soon.”

Lestrade freezes. That voice, that razor-sharp, deep tenor. That patronising tone. He would recognise it anywhere. And yet, he has to be wrong.

The one this voice belonged to is six feet under in a London cemetery Lestrade visited three weeks ago.

He turns around slowly. The underpass is only illuminated by a few neon tubes, but there is no mistaking it. Long coat, confident --almost arrogant-- posture, blue scarf, unruly dark curls. 

And the bastard is actually smirking.

“Evening, Lestrade.” 

No, still no mistake.

He drops the sandwich bag. “Jesus Christ…” he whispers.

“Almost right. May I suggest that you close your mouth, forego the three pints of cider and an inane conversation about football, and help me catch a terrorist?”


	2. Recipe

# Spelt Bread

  
[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=a3e7ag)   


  
Ingredients:

  * 500g spelt flour, plus extra for dusting (also works well with strong white flour) 
  * 2 tsp salt 
  * 7g sachet fast-action yeast 
  * 3 tbsp olive oil 
  * 300ml water


  1. Mix the flour, salt and yeast in a large bowl. Make a well in the centre, then add the oil and water, and mix well. If the dough seems a little stiff, add 1-2 tbsp water, mix well then tip onto a lightly floured work surface and knead. Once the dough is satin-smooth, place it in a lightly oiled bowl. Leave to rise for 1 hour until doubled in size or place in the fridge overnight. 
  2. Line a baking tray with baking parchment. Knock back the dough, then gently mould the dough into a ball. Place it on the baking parchment to prove for a further hour until doubled in size. If you have a tin, you can use that as well, in case you want the loaf to have a certain shape. My breads have a tendency to be wide and flat if I don’t use a tin. 
  3. Heat oven to 220C/fan 200C/gas 7. Dust the loaf with flour and cut a cross about 6cm long into the top of the loaf with a sharp knife. Bake for 25-30 mins until golden brown and the loaf sounds hollow when tapped underneath. Cool on a wire rack.



  


* * *

  


# Caesar Chicken Sandwich

  
[](http://de.tinypic.com?ref=1ruf40)   


  
Ingredients:

  * 2 skinless chicken breasts 
  * 1 tsp sunflower oil 
  * 2 Little Gem lettuces 
  * 2 tbsp low-fat crème fraîche or Greek yogurt 
  * 1 tbsp grated parmesan, plus a few shavings, to serve 
  * 1 tbsp Miracle Whip or other mayonnaise (optional) 
  * squeeze lemon juice 
  * 1 tsp caper, roughly chopped (optional) 
  * 4 thick slices bread 
  * 1 small garlic clove, cut in half 
  * 4 rashers of bacon


  1. Heat a griddle pan. Rub the chicken with the oil, season with salt and pepper, then griddle for 7 mins each side or until cooked through. Fry off the bacon. Set aside to rest. 
  2. Meanwhile, separate the lettuce leaves. Mix the crème fraîche, parmesan, mayonnaise, lemon juice and capers with 1 tbsp cold water, then season to taste. 
  3. Toast the bread and rub with the cut side of the garlic _(not too much, raw garlic is very strong)_ , then crush the garlic and add to the dressing. Slice the warm chicken breasts on the diagonal, then top the toast with lettuce leaves, sliced chicken breast, bacon and a drizzle of the Caesar dressing. Finish with a few shavings of parmesan.



_Personally, I prefer the sandwich with the Miracle Whip and the capers, but if one or both of them aren’t your cup of tea, they can be left out easily. I’d recommend a pinch of extra seasoning in the dressing in that case._


End file.
